Monday, August 31, 2015

Words, Words, Twaddle, 14

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Rue Brick

I know that “rubric” is a word
That’s popular these jaded days
When much we say is so absurd
And English, in its dying haze,

Well knows it’s lost the language war
And has surrendered all its all
To those who favor keeping score.
And now we see the somber pall

Drift down to cover up the corpse
That once held such a healthy soul.
Our language now distorts and warps,
And we must pay a dreadful toll.

Below the rubric of regret
Write, “Clarity in English Prose”—
Then try your utmost to forget—
And find a way to plug your nose.

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